


The Prophecy

by ezralia_writes



Series: Of Gods and Goddesses [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Angst, Death, F/M, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25563565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ezralia_writes/pseuds/ezralia_writes
Summary: The beginning of the end.
Series: Of Gods and Goddesses [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1852558
Kudos: 1





	The Prophecy

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little confusing! But it’s the prologue. Each member will have their specific stories following this. Further details can be found on Tumblr series’ masterlist.

_Long ago, the Greeks worshiped divine beings at grand altars of sacrifice and wove splendorous myths regaling both the heroics and downfalls of the Pantheon of Gods — the almighty Olympians who influenced the supernatural mysteries of nature along with their mythological companions. Through Homer and Hesiod’s ancient texts, their tales live on to this very day, intertwined richly in our media and continuously fascinate us, yet they are no longer the heroes once worshiped and the sinners once condemned._

_But they are very much alive._

_The once fervent invocations to the Muses for inspiration poured the very souls of these deities into mortal vessels to walk the earth. Reborn again and again, the gods, goddesses, titans, and the once mythological creatures have lived together among the mortals, taking in much but learning very little. The tales spun are no lie, but to what truth do they tell?_

To step into the lord’s mansion sitting demurely on the hillside was like being transported to one of the 6,000 islands of Greece. The great scroll-like designs on the volutes of the slender columns supported the high ceilings, the ionic style drawing inspiration from the very pillars decorating the ancient monuments worshiped by the Greeks. Displayed through the massive halls were panels of art depicting various stories, like the _Titanomachy_ and _Apollo in the Forge of Vulcan_. Different sizes and shapes of hydriai with paintings of great heroes were scattered across empty window sills and shelves, not a single fiber of dust upon their clay surfaces. In the center of the mansion laid the chambers of the circular sanctuary and there stood the great statue, Apollo Belvedere. In all his marbled glory under the open roof to the heavens above, the birds that once sung hymns of praise amidst the trickling of the spring’s waters that wound through the lush leaves of the laurel trees, were quiet.

All was still.

The servants rushed through the halls, careful to not make a single noise that would disrupt the heavy silence hanging in the air. Only exchanging looks with their heads bowed automatically in subservience, they dare not even whisper. The chance that their hushed voices would echo throughout the halls, perhaps carrying all the way to the lord’s sensitive ears, was too high of a risk.

“My lord,” the doctor spoke gently. The old man’s voice was quivering ever so slightly as he relayed the somber news. “I fear your mother will not make it through the night.”

After a pause that seemed to last for eternity, the lord finally replied. 

“You are dismissed.”

His back was turned, not even glancing behind when the doctor let out a dithering reply before taking his leave. With a gaze that was hardened with focus, the young man watched the sun slowly descend towards the horizon. When he was satisfied with the way the glowing orb finally cast its vibrant colors across the sky, he breathed out a melancholy sigh.

“Claiming to be the greatest doctor in the world, yet even he cannot save her.”

 _But neither can you_ , whispered the voice in his mind and tethered to his soul. _Not even the god of death can defy when the Fates cut the thread._

The room felt dark despite the rays of the dying sun stretching through the window when the lord entered. They cast a golden glow upon the elderly woman lying among the cushions of the luxurious bed. Her eyes stared distantly, unseeing, and as her chest rose and fell, he counted. Each beat slower the next time.

“Taemin,” she rasped and the young man was at her side in a flash.

“Pythia,” he lamented, holding her wrinkled hand gently in his own. The doctor would never believe that the lord’s young appearance was nowhere near his true age. Taemin was much older than the woman breathing in her final moments, yet he would look the same age as when he’d awakened until the Fates called him home.

“The sun is beautiful, I am sure. I can feel its warmth upon my skin.” Pythia closed her eyes, face serene as she sunk in the heat emanating not just from the sky but the man beside her. It was how she’d known he was around her all these years.

_But she had never seen the sky or the colors decorating it. Ever._

Humans were weak. They were frail. They fell susceptible to illness and death like flies were attracted to honey. Taemin knew that. But the human part of him _ached_ at the pain he failed to heal for her. Pythia’s life was full of hardships. He could raise the sun every morning and evening, but he couldn’t even save his oracle from a disease.

_Failure. Guilt. Powerless._

Or her blindness.

_She had never even seen the god she served._

“It’s beautiful,” he assured her. 

“I imagine it’s what Olympus looks like.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about it. Next time.” Taemin choked out.

“Next time.” 

They lapsed into silence. With practiced dedication, because time waits for no one, he lowered the sun beneath the horizon. Slowly, the faint twinkle of the stars began poking their heads out to shine as Nyx took over her reign of the night. Each breath Pythia wheezed out, Taemin held his own, waiting for each one to be the last.

And with a shudder of her body, Taemin felt the pull of his mind connecting to hers in a dreamlike stance.

_No, why now?_

Pythia’s dull, gray eyes began to shine with a golden light as tremors repeatedly rocked her frail body. He might have been more worried if he wasn’t feeling the tug of his powers rushing through her mind.

“ _The awakening of the new gods will bring forth devastation, destruction, and doom. Chaos will firmly reign over the world like never before when the trickster becomes victim to his own. The twice-born will foolishly fall for mortal troubles, the steady current of the sea will go against the tide it cannot force back, and the threat of war will rage under the pretense of love…_ ”

Pythia paused to gain back her struggling breath, the prophetic powers fighting to finish their spiel through the woman’s failing body. Taemin begged for the higher powers to _stop_. This wasn’t his will, but it was crucial to know what was to come.

“…And what of me?” He questioned despite knowing that the prophecy would sustain her until its will was spoken. It would continue unprompted and even he couldn’t fathom what was to lie ahead.

“ _The sun will fail to rise, the days will be dark and endless bringing forth the realm of the dead. The earth will be tarnished by the blood of those dead and dying. Only the queen’s lift of the curse can unite the heavens._ ”

Taemin closed his eyes in concentration, reaching out for answers to the questions he had.

“What can I do to prevent this destruction?”

“ _No one can stop the weaving of the loom. It spins and it spins and it spins. Who are you to stop the march of time?_ ”

_Obviously, I am no one._

“Their names. What are their names?” He implored, knowing every detail was crucial. Perhaps he could write it down for the eyes of those in the future — to warn, to teach, to protect.

_You are powerless._

Pythia’s body convulsed, mouth stuttering as if she was fighting against the prophetic words forced to spew from her mouth.

“ _You need not concern yourself, failed vessel of Apollo. You will see neither the beginning nor the end. Time is up for you, son of Zeus._ ”

 _If this is the end_ , argued the voice inside of him. _I will see it through._

The divine light slowly faded as did the oracle’s heartbeat. There was no need for Taemin’s eyes to adjust to the dark blanket of the night, having been used to looking straight on at the sun for years. Mournfully, he clasped Pythia’s lifeless hands in his own, glistening tears dotting the blanket covering her. Silence once more fell upon the mansion on the hill, followed by an unnerving stillness.

This was oracle’s final prophecy, signifying the death of this generation’s vessels. The great goddess of the night called back her children to the skies above, bypassing the trials of the Underworld. After all, there would be no three-headed hound guarding the entrance, no ferryman that guided souls across the river of pain to pay, and no god of death to judge the deeds of those who died — they too would be woven lights decorating the patchwork of the blanket of night above. It was the darkest time before the new generation of vessels awakened.

But the truest of darkest times were yet to come.

That night, one soul wandered free and another was chained while millions danced in the stars above.

As the morning sun rose slowly to illuminate the earth, the wind whistled mischievously, the sea sparkled and rose in waves of joy, the skies were blue and dotted with fluffs of clouds, and the world seemed calm and at peace. Shimmering orbs of sunlight twisted, turned, and danced in beams that touched down on the thriving vegetation covering the lands.

One speck of sunlight touched down onto a man — the one who will be waiting for his children to awaken. With the bright lights came soft words of warning and he furrowed his eyebrows, trying to decipher the mixed messages.

A cry of a baby on earth rocked the heavens, the Underworld, and his soul.

The new gods were born.

**Author's Note:**

> Me: This is a GOT7 fanfic  
> Also me: puts Taemin in it and he becomes the main character
> 
> Hm, will we see Taemin again 👀 I don’t even know how to explain or tag this.
> 
> Me: ANGST HAHAHAH  
> Also me: cries
> 
> This whole series is angst. Also, I might do a ‘behind-the-scenes’ eventually. Anyways, grab your tissues and popcorn! Do let me know if you want to be tagged for the future fics coming out! I’m v excited because I have a lot of WIPs but this series seems to be coming together.


End file.
